Moonlight's warden
by Shiguya Retomasi
Summary: They say time heals all wounds. That given a chance, even the most painful things can be worked through. Tell that to someone who owes his very existence to a group only looking to create a weapon.


Disclaimer: all characters, places, and recognized names are copy write their respective owners. Anything else is mine, so please don't be a thief; Shadowbane doesn't appreciate it.

( ) Means a Pokèmon is speaking and that is a translation only if any characters present cannot hear it as a normal language.

\ / Is Telepathic speech, simple enough.

_Italicized _words are thoughts

For Aeris: One of my few fans but most certainly not the least important. She's been a great help in writing this, and is someone whom I would be honored to consider a friend.

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**Moonlight's Warden**

The hollow boom of a clock tower echoed through the still night, piercing the silence with its commanding chime. 8… 9… 10… 11… 12. _Midnight; such a strange time. _Some call it the darkest hour, when only things of evil roam the streets. Others say it is a time of transition; sun and moon exchanging control in a celestial ballet… but, for me it is a time to roam. Unlike others, who live under the light of day, I do not. By the pale rays of moonlight I walk this earth, a shadow of another… Mew. _But, am I really destined to just be a shadow, to walk only in the moonlight while so many others can experience the sun? Is it my fate to be denied that which those born into this world have? _

A gentle breeze swept across my body, carrying with it the delicate fragrance of Pecha blossoms. It brought a deep longing back, a hidden desire to experience the things that others take for granted on a daily basis. _Why, that is all I want to know; why am I denied even the simplest of joys just because of the circumstances behind my own birth? _

I guess it would be wise to properly introduce myself, seeing as by now you must know my name. I am Mewtwo, the product of a madman funded by the corrupt group of humans calling themselves 'Team Rocket'. That is one chapter of my life that I am not proud of, but I cannot deny it.

They created me as a weapon; a living engine of destruction to be used by their power hungry leader: Giovanni. He used me: tried to bend my will to his own on two occasions; nearly ending my life the second time. I hated humans, and those Pokèmon who would serve them. But, as fate would have it my views were changed by one selfless act.

I will never forget his name, so long as I draw breath: that human who put the needs of others ahead of his own: Ash. Even now, I do not understand why he did it, there was nothing he could gain from helping me, quite the opposite. He put his life at risk for me, without asking for some favor or other repayment.

I survived that encounter and made sure that it could not happen again; only those few that I felt were trustworthy still remember those events. In the end though, life really did not change much for me. I still hide myself from the world, envious of what others have, and do not give a second thought.

Oh well, the night is not getting any younger. I crouched low, taking a moment to prepare before springing from my perch. It started like it always did; a short-lived feeling of weightlessness, followed by a sinking feeling as gravity took over.

No matter how many times I do it, the feeling is always the same. This was one of my few joys; leaping from any high point, wind whistling past my ears, hurtling toward the ground like a bullet train: challenging both gravity and death to defeat me.

The tattered cloak I had recently taken to wearing twisted and snapped in the rush of air, striking my back and tail harshly. The pain reminded me that I was still alive, and to be prepared to catch myself in time. With practiced skill, I changed the direction of my descent; curving into a gentle glide twenty feet above the ground. The cool night air felt good against my fur, like a gentle massage from one of the few things I can find comfort in.

I landed in a deserted back alley, making sure to stay within the shadows just in case someone was there. I knew the area pretty well from my nightly exploration; a more run down section of the city, mostly populated by what humans call the 'refuse of society'. _Why they chose that word is something I never understood. All life has value, however little it is. _

It was the type of place that a lone human or smaller Pokèmon could be attacked and no one would even blink. Sadly, it is this very place that I call home… or, more specifically, that I call my window into the human world. On many occasions I have traveled into the city, hoping to learn more about this world. The only thing I find there is more questions, more unanswered riddles, and more confusion.

The sickeningly sweet stench of rotting fruit mixed with what I could only guess was bread and meat soaking in stale wine hung in the air. The foul odor burned at my nose, and threatened to relieve me of my earlier meal. Instead, I pressed on; giving the dumpster a wide berth.

It was just my luck to pick an alleyway that had not been serviced in a while. Water dripped from a clogged rain gutter, pooling in a slime-covered puddle nearby. sigh. Such foul conditions some have forced upon them. Thankfully this is not a place I have to call home; I sleep in the upper reaches of the Meriami clock tower. It is not a bad place really; with only the few books that I have scavenged over time, and the rhythmic ticking to keep me company, it gives me time to reflect on life. So often I have sat there for hours, learning what I can about the world and honing my own abilities.

"No, leave me alone!" I instinctively flattened myself against the nearest wall, preparing for a fight.

A lone human wearing a white coat stumbled past, clutching at a wound in his stomach. He collapsed a few feet past where I was, gasping for breath. Something about his situation made me want to help, but I could do nothing without revealing myself.

It is hard to understand why a species that thinks so highly of their civilized ways and advances in what they call 'technology', finds a need to kill its own kind for reasons other than territory or defense. Pitiful would be a good word for it or, perhaps stupid. Whatever the reason, it is a shame to see another slain like that, though I could be wrong. Maybe he started a fight with another human or even a Pokèmon?

My thoughts were interrupted by a pair of humans making their way loudly down the alleyway. Even in the pale moonlight, the blood stained knife in the second male's hand was easy to see. Both were well built, by their species standard; street dwellers, judging by the unwashed clothing and short hair growing along their faces.

On more than one occasion I have dealt with their kind; more out of self-defense than to help others but, every time was the same. It is not clear if they were the ones who attacked the injured human, though, it is likely enough to warrant intervention.

When the two aggressive humans were about ten feet away, I closed my eyes, letting the natural flow of energy within my body collect into a single force. It may be the technique used to create me, or a buried instinct welling up, but the allure of combat always sends a shiver through my body.

Either way, it felt good to unleash the strength bestowed upon me on targets so deserving. It took only a thought to send the sphere of concentrated shadow energy toward them. The inky ball of energy floated lazily through the air, much slower than a normal shadow ball; just the right speed to serve its true purpose.

My targets were too focused on whatever single minded goal was running through their dim brains to see the attack coming until it was too late. With a second thought, the sphere shattered; sending splinters of dark energy into the two humans. _I have never really studied the effects of Ghost energy on humans, so this should be an interesting learning experience. _

Their screams of pain rang out, echoing lazily through the night; unheard by all, but me. The attack had a very interesting effect; instead of exploding upon contact with a solid object, the shards bored through their meager clothing, and into their flesh.

The action was similar to the way a knife would cut: piercing the skin at the tip, and continuing inward, cutting a path inward. The time it took was mere seconds, but the damage it caused was extensive: the shards cut through muscle and bone with ease, dispersing their energy a few inches within the target. Dark colored blood flowed from each of the wounds, staining the two humans' already soiled clothing further.

The Ghost attribute must have leeched into their system, adding a sort of poisonous effect to the attack. I guess the theory that humans and Pokèmon are related was incorrect, or they just do not have much resistance to that element. The overall effect must have been excruciating, judging by how loud their cries were.

A part of me felt bad, but that was drowned out by a sense of satisfaction. Those who choose to prematurely end the life of others give up the right to their own. It is not a sense of right and wrong, so much as a moral code, that I choose to live by; a way to try and rectify the atrocities I have committed in the past. _Some may call it a cruel outlook, but it is the only one that has ever made sense to me. _

The two humans collapsed with a final groan, clutching at the worst of their wounds feebly. I suppose the shards struck some vital organs, or maybe the Ghost energy is that potent; either way, death was almost instantaneous.

I made my way carefully to their crumpled bodies, taking great care to avoid making too much sound; the human who was stabbed did not have much life left, but it could be a problem if he managed to survive. Also, even with my night vision and psionic senses, it was difficult to know for certain that the ground was clear of hazardous debris.

_I found that out the hard way once; humans really have no respect for the world around them, throwing sharp objects around and leaving them where anyone who is not paying attention can step on them. _It took me a full hour to heal the wound, and it hurt more than I would have expected to remove. That is another reason I would never resort to living in such decrepit conditions.

When it was certain that no others would intrude, I leaned down and ran my left hand a few inches above the first humans chest; taking note of the Shadow energy radiating from both the initial wounds, and thickening blood. _Very strange… the ghost energy stopped spreading once the victim was dead_; this was something worth looking into further, preferably under more controlled conditions. But, these two less than willing test subjects will do for now.

\Hmm… the energy spreads quickly; taking only a few seconds to wind its way through to the more vital systems; death would be extremely painful, but quick. It is hard to understand how it could prove fatal in humans, and only hazardous in most Pokèmon… maybe it varies by the attacker's strength?/

It only took a few moments to learn everything I could from a physical scan, seeing as memories fade quickly once brain function has ceased. It was a shame to lose that opportunity, but judging by their appearance they would have had little to offer. In death they have done more for me than they most likely did for anyone else in life; providing first hand information on something that is very difficult to study otherwise. But, fascinating as it is I have other things to take care of, there is still a living specimen that may prove interesting.

Humans have fascinated me ever since my first encounter with that human child; they are a single species, yet have such a wide range of temperament. Most of them can be dismissed as either self centered creatures, or who are far too naive to understand the wonders and dangers of this world. It is a depressing thing to think about, but reality nonetheless; at one time it would have given me great pleasure to simply erase their existence from history, and start over. But, now I realize, that there is some hope for their species, if only a minor one.

Luck was on my side this night; the human who was attacked was still alive, though barely. It was a prime opportunity to find out more about their world, one that I was not about to waste.

I made my way toward him cautiously, wary of any sudden movement. There was no immediate threat from him, but it is wise to stay on the safe side. This would be my first real research into their world beyond reading books and watching from afar; both of which have only strengthened my curiosity, rather than satisfying it.

He twitched once as I approached, probably a dying spasm. but still a possible problem. Even from afar I could tell his wound was fatal; a pool of blood had formed around where he lay, creeping along the ground like a crimson tide. It was sad really; if his condition was better I could have healed him, but it was too late for me to do anything beyond learn what I could.

\Do not worry, human; death will be peaceful./ That is not something I could tell him for sure, but if his mind is at peace it would make my next move much easier. The human mind is unlike any I have encountered. Unlike most species, their thoughts are a chaotic jumble of emotions and ideas; surging through a mostly inactive area, much like a raging river during spring.

For the inexperienced telepath, this could very easily cause a synaptic overload; possibly causing permanent damage to both the reader and the target. Thankfully I am both more experienced, and more capable than the average psychic.

I placed one hand on his forehead, spreading out my fingers in a triangular pattern. Next, I forced my own mind into a meditative state, clearing out all unneeded thought in order to extend my awareness into his. This was the part I was not looking forward to; forcing my consciousness into the mind of another both leaves me vulnerable, and leaves behind echoes of what I saw. But, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity, and it would be foolish to pass it up.

At first the world around me was blank: a vast plane of darkness, surrounding me like a veil. Slowly, things began to appear; random bits of memory floating along like small spheres of information. It started as just a few, quickly growing into a sea of information shifting slowly around me; jumping from one thought to another in an endless cycle.

Most of it held no real relevance; images of other humans he must have known, a very old human yelling for some unknown reason, and things like that. Sadly, none of this told me anything; there was no way for me to learn from just watching random memories float by as I had hoped. This situation would take a much more hands on approach, much to my dismay. Oh well, maybe it would lead to something interesting.

I let my own consciousness float upward, rising above the swirling mass. From there, I called forth every last ounce of strength that could be spared. I have never tried to copy an entire lifetime of memories, and it would be dangerous to not understand and respect the hazard involved._ Oh well, there is nothing to be gained without a little risk. _

Power surged through every part of my ethereal body, drawing the bubbles of memory toward me like a magnet. Pain does not exist outside of a physical state, as it cannot be remembered. Which is very fortunate for me judging, by how it felt to send my entire psionic focus through my own body.

The odd buzz it created was magnified as the first memories merged with me: it was like having new thoughts implanted deep into my own subconscious, merging them with my own experiences and creating a secondary 'life'. It was not difficult to keep the new ones contained; most of them were alien to my own so they stood out like a sore thumb… _I do not remember ever hearing that expression though. _

As more memories were absorbed, I could feel his life slipping away; some of the bubbles were fading away before reaching me. No matter, so long as I retracted my own consciousness before his ceased to exist, everything would be fine. I estimated it would be ten minutes before the process was complete and only eight before he died; looks like I am really running the wire on this one… _are his memories affecting me?_

In any case, I would be able to collect roughly eighty-five percent of his total memories, enough to create a general overview of his life and what he must have experienced during it. The effect of a living thing's mind dying while my own is present is not something I have studied, and do not particularly wish to experiment with.

I made sure to monitor the deterioration of his synaptic patterns closely, just in case my estimate proved to be wrong. This is one of the few times in my life that I have felt the chilling grip of fear close around my heart; a very unnerving feeling. _Death is not a thing to be feared, only a fact of life that one must come to understand, and even embrace_. But, having my mind crushed as death claims another is something that is worse than death. To die mentally is un-death, a state between this world and the next in which you can never escape. I would rather be under the cruel if not sadistic domination of Giovanni than that state; the former can be escaped from or at the very least I could die.

_Hmm, is there an afterlife for a clone… for that matter, do I have what humans would call a soul? And if I do, was it drawn to this form?_ Mew did not offer many answers; he just shrugged and started throwing around that white sphere… baseball, I believe he called it.

I have read many different theories on this matter: many believe that every living thing, human and Pokèmon alike, are akin in some spiritual way: a soul link, would be an apt description. In fact, none of the books denied that the soul exists; they just had different explanations for what it is. Sadly none of them had answers either, only more questions and possibilities. One very obscure theory did interest me greatly, but I was unable to find more of his work. _sigh, there are so many questions that have remained unanswered; all the more reason to explore and learn. _

As I had estimated, after roughly seven minutes the loss of blood started taking effect. I fled his collapsing subconscious, running like a bat out of hell to avoid becoming trapped in it. _Wait… I know that I have never heard that one in my lifetime; his memories must have blended into my own. Very odd, I would have thought that by own subconscious would be too different for the two to interact, but judging by how I keep using strange phrases without realizing it… and the sudden craving for something called 'coffee' leads me to suspect different. _

Maybe what Mew said before we parted ways is true, maybe all living things share some distant link with each other. At that time, I thought that he was just telling me some fairy tale in an attempt to put me at ease, but now… I am starting to think differently. No matter, perhaps in the morning I will be of a sounder mind and able to understand what is going on. For now, I think it is time to retire; there is no sense in letting these new experiences go to waste.

With wobbling steps I made my way past the now deceased human; taking one last look back at the scene of death I have taken part in, before rising into the air. What started as a normal night has become a possible turning point in my life. _Perhaps that human's memories will lead me to the one answer I truly seek; why am I here?_


End file.
